


Our Hearts Beat Loud

by zombiesbecrazy



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Superman (Comics), Titans (Comics), Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Alfred is Bruce Wayne's dad fight me, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Robin, Dick is the dad friend, Dick/Choose Your Own Partner Pairing, Garth loves hockey and you can't convince me otherwise, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Jason Todd is Robin, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sometimes your best friend makes questionable life decisions but you help him anyway, Titans Together, World's Finest, concerned batdad, fear toxin, former Robins being awesome, reference to Ric Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiesbecrazy/pseuds/zombiesbecrazy
Summary: Nine hug 'drabble' prompt fills collection from Tumblr that got too long to really be drabbles
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Clark Kent, Dick Grayson & Donna Troy, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Raven, Garth & Roy Harper, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd
Comments: 81
Kudos: 270





	1. Dick and Bruce

**Author's Note:**

> I took hug drabble prompts on tumblr to stave off some of the isolation blues, but true to form, my drabbles got too long, so I'm posting them over here now.
> 
> First up - _Anonymous asked: Please can you do for the drabble: number 12 with Dick Grayson and Bruce? (Can it be grown up nightwing! Dick?) thank you 😊_
> 
> (FYI - I'm not taking new prompts, but I encourage others to do their own because I'd love to read them. We could all use some hugs!)

Bruce blinked several times, both because he was shocked by the news and to buy himself a little bit of time before responding to the bombshell that had been tossed into his lap. “You got married today.” The words weren’t processing in a way that made sense in the context or order that they were in.

Dick couldn’t have gotten married. Dick was a little kid who ate cake batter out of the bowl. A teenager who dramatically slammed his door when things were _‘so unfair’_. Dick was…

Dick was sitting on the roof of the Gazette in the familiar way the way that he always had, swinging his feet against the brick, grinning in the way that he did when he knew that he was being a bit of the brat and it was completely intentional. “I did.”

Brat wasn’t the right word for it. Twenty five year old’s couldn’t be classified as brats anymore, could they?

“Without telling anyone.”

“That is also true.”

Brat.

Married brat.

His oldest son. The one who Bruce could remember putting his shoes on the wrong feet and who to this day wore his tee shirts inside out rather than the right way round more often than not, was an adult, married, brat.

It was so unlike Dick and yet somehow so Dick to spontaneously get married. Yes, Dick loved his family, but he also wore his heart on his sleeve and yearned for his own independence all at the same time. It wasn’t exactly sudden (it had been a long time coming), nor really a surprise (because Bruce had sometimes forgotten himself that Dick wasn’t already married), but it was a shock none the less to just have it sprung on him while standing on a rooftop on a regular Tuesday night.

“You didn’t tell me.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say and Bruce regretted the words instantly. He didn’t want to turn this around into being about him, and he certainly didn’t mean to turn it into an argument but something about Dick had always made him spit out half formed thoughts before they were done percolating.

Dick didn’t look angry though. Instead, Dick popped to his feet and grinned wide and true. Maybe he looked a little sheepish and definitely like he was trying to reign in the obvious bubbling over enthusiasm, but not angry in the slightest.

“Well, you do fall into the category of ‘anyone’, B. And if I recall, you and Selina attempted to elope on a rooftop so you have no place to judge.” He peeled off his domino mask, indicating that this was Dick talking to Bruce, not Nightwing to Batman, and he fidgeted with it between his fingers. “It wasn’t planned. It just sort of…” Dick waved his left hand vaguely and Bruce wondered if he was wearing a ring under his gloves. “Happened. Felt like the right time and we didn’t want to let it slide by.”

“I’m…” Bruce trailed off trying to process what he wanted to say and sort it into a way that fully conveyed how he was feeling but he was coming up with nothing that felt like enough.

Dick didn’t give him a chance to figure it out though, just rushed on like he always had when he was Robin, filling in Batman’s blanks or when he was Dick, charming everyone he met along the way. “I didn’t intentionally leave you out. Or the family. I know it looks like we did but it wasn’t. It just…” He ran his hand through his hair and looked out towards the city skyline. Bruce wondered if they were thinking about the same thing, seeing shadows of Batman and Robin from years gone past swinging between the buildings. The Gazette was the first building that Dick had ever used his grapple on in the field, giggling as he was pulled up through the air at a speed that would have terrified any other child. “It was about just us. We’re going to have a reception for our friends and family, but that’s a wedding. The actual ceremony, the marriage, we decided that was just for us.” Dick shrugged, not knowing what else to say about it and Bruce sympathized with that. “I’m not explaining it well. I didn’t mean anyth-”

Bruce pulled him into a hug, cutting of Dick’s rambling explanation. Would he be lying if he said that he wasn’t hurt that he hadn’t been there for Dick? Of course, but it wasn’t about him. This was about what Dick wanted, and this was something that made him happier than Bruce could remember seeing, which meant a lot because he had seen a lot of happiness from Dick Grayson over the years.

This boy, his brat, had grown up into a fine young man.

Even if he was still a brat. 

Bruce hoped that he always would be.

His arms squeezed tight, wrapping them around the grown man who had started out so small, who used to curl up and fall asleep under his cape on this very rooftop on long stakeouts and he grinned as he felt Dick return the embrace. Bruce didn’t need to figure out the right words because Dick didn’t need to hear them to know what Bruce was struggling to say.

_Congratulations. I’m happy for you. I’m so proud of who you have grown up to be. Thank you for being you. I love you._

The hug broke apart when there was a chirp in Bruce’s ear, Alfred notifying him of a bank robbery in progress. Gotham stopped for nothing and no one, no matter what the celebration.

“Want to join me? For old times sake?”

“I couldn’t ask for a better wedding present.” Stepping back to the edge, Dick pulled out his grapple and looked like he was going to fire it before he tilted his head back to Bruce. “Except for maybe a trip to Fiji for a couple weeks?”

Bruce grunted and shot out his own grapple, feet lifting from the ground. “Fight now, negotiate vacation time later.”


	2. Clark & Dick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce calls Clark to Gotham to help him find a missing child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hug Drabble Prompt
> 
> _danishsweethearts asked:  
>  clark and dick, tol and smol hug? love your writing!_

“Superman.”

Clark turned his head a few more times than he’d like to admit, looking around to see where Batman’s disembodied voice was coming from, before he remembered the communicator on his wrist. It was a standard Justice League issued tech.

Standard JL tech that Batman had never once used to contact Clark. As far as he knew, Bruce hadn’t used it to contact anyone outside of a pre-authorized mission, ever.

“Batman?”

There was a delay and Clark wondered if maybe Bruce had changed his mind or maybe if he had imagined the call all together, when the link came to life again. “I need your assistance in Gotham immediately,” said Batman gruffly before the telltale click telling Clark that the line had been disconnected, without even giving him a chance to respond. 

Clark simply sighed and took off into the sky, headed towards Gotham. Bruce wouldn’t have called him if it wasn’t an emergency.

* * *

As soon as he came into view, Clark knew that something was wrong. Bruce was pacing back and forth across the roof, an unusual movement of nervous energy while his shoulder were coiled and tight and ready to jolt. It was a weird combination of behaviour for someone who prided themselves on being a bit of a stoic enigma.

Clark landed on the rooftop beside him, but Bruce ignored his arrival, instead choosing to pause his restless walking and look downwards to the street below. A soft grunt escaped him, disappointment evident in even the smallest of sounds, before he turned around to finally acknowledge that Clark was there.

“I need another set of eyes. There is a young boy, approximately nine years old, who went missing earlier tonight. Last spotted on Clifton Street, headed due west. I can’t find him.” Bruce lifted his chin in the direction of the street in question. “His guardians are concerned.”

Clark tried to remain impassive, but it was such a strange request for him to be called into Gotham on even the worst of nights, but to be called in for a single missing child was unheard of when things like that were handled on a nightly basis by Batman and the GCPD. He would absolutely help, he always had told Bruce that he was just a call away if he was needed, but this was never what he expected to be brought in for. “I can take a look but I need a little more to go on. Description? Name?”

“Short for his age. 129 cm tall. Black hair. Blue eyes. X ray scan may show evidence to healed fracture to his left wrist, from approximately two years go.” Clark was about to lift off the roof to start his search when Bruce lowered his voice to continue. “Wearing a red tunic, yellow cape and a domino mask.” His lips thinned as he pressed them together, obviously not wanting to share anymore, but knowing that he had to now that Clark was the one helping. “Answers to Robin.”

_What?_

“Br-.” Bruce shot him a sharp look and Clark corrected. “Batman, what have you been up to?” Now that Clark thought about it a little more, Batman had been distance from the League lately, always too busy in Gotham to assist with volunteer missions but yet the crime rate hadn’t seen any sort of spike that he knew of.

Had Bruce taken a child into the streets of Gotham to fight crime? He couldn’t have. That would be impossible and no one would do something like that.

Except that all the evidence that Clark had made it sound like it was absolutely what he had done.

Even further, was Bruce now a _dad_? Who had put his own child at risk?

Clark wasn’t sure which he liked less.

Batman crossed his arms across his chest, giving an irritated look that had no effect on Clark now that he was listening to the way that Bruce’s heart was pounding beneath the armor. Fast, like he was at full exertion. Beads of perspiration on the edge of the cowl. If Clark were a betting man, he would have said that Bruce was doing his best not to have a full on meltdown. “It was a training exercise.”

“What was?”

“Hide and seek. Robin was to hide to see if he could evade me for an hour. Once the hour was up, if I hadn’t found him he was to meet me here. His previous best had been 52 minutes.” Bruce looked back towards the end of the building, fingers tightening around his own arms, Kevlar bending ever so slightly under the stress. “It’s been two hours.”

Clark stared at Bruce, unable to come up with a single word to say to him. Bruce had thought that it was a good idea to bring a kid on patrol with him. To turn it into some sort of _game_. A nine year old, loose on the streets of Gotham at night, where the worst of the worst lived and a place that frankly gave Clark bad dreams when he spent too much time there. Part of him wanted to yell at Bruce, to try and knock some sense into him, but it was clear that Bruce was already panicking about what was happening, even if it was mostly internalized. There was a child missing, one that was apparently under his charge, and he didn’t know what to do, so he asked for help from the one person he could trust to find him fast. Just doing so was an admittance that he knew he had made a mistake. “I’ll find him.” He eventually settled on, not knowing what else to say. “And when I get back, you and I are going to have a very serious discussion.” The cowl eyes stared at him unblinking, but said nothing in return. Clark floated off the rooftop “Any other ways to narrow it down?”

“He was to stay south of Park Row.” Bruce started to pace the rooftop again, message clear that he was planning on staying put in case the boy, this _Robin_ , appeared unharmed at their meeting place. Batman froze mid step. “The code word is elephant.” Clark raised an eyebrow and Bruce turned back towards the street. “If he asks you. He’s not supposed to go with strangers if they don’t know the code word.”

* * *

Clark hovered above the city, closing his eyes to try and filter through the sounds of Gotham at night, which unlike most cities somehow seemed to become more alive after the sun was down. Cars driving below. Occasional planes overhead in the distance. As he narrowed his focus he heard families in their homes, parents ushering their kids into bed. He heard drug deals and plots of robberies that had yet to take place. He heard restaurants and bars serving their clientele. Pushing the extra noises aside, he listened for sounds of kids in distress, kids where they shouldn’t be.

There were far too many of them and Clark’s heart tightened at their cries as Gotham filled his ears.

He was going to have to narrow it down and to do that, he had to follow every lead.

The first two children Clark found were homeless, curled up together under a bridge but looked warm under their blankets and sheltered from the wind. He had tried to take them to a shelter for the night, but they adamantly refused, loudly insisting that their mom was getting food and would be right back. Clark wasn’t sure if he believed them or not, but promised that he would be back later that night to check on them.

He didn’t think they would run. Children rarely lied to Superman.

Similar events happened three more times. He found kids in places where they shouldn’t be late at night. They turned down his help. He said he’d be back to check on them later. They waved as he flew away.

It was a frustrating experience to be asked not to help and he was starting to commiserate with the struggles that Batman faced on a nightly basis.

He stopped in a cold, dark alley that was filled with dumpsters and while he couldn’t see them, he could hear dogs barking behind gates nearby, threatening anyone who came too close to their claim. There was the faintest of sniffles that had his attention. Clark slowly followed them, not wanting to scare the child off, when he found the source curled up in a ball and wedged between two of the bins. He would have been impossible to see unless someone was specifically looking for him, face down but with a mop of dark hair and skinned knees curled up to his chest, yellow cape wrapped tight around him.

“Robin?” Clark asked quietly, making the child startle, head raising and a domino mask blinked up at him, tear tracks clear as day splashing down his cheeks.

The small boy wiped his cheeks quickly, doing nothing to hide the evidence of his panic, and took in Clark’s appearance. “S-superman?”

Clark crouched down as small as he could, careful not to block Robin in completely, and nodded. “B sent me.” The child’s eyes widened in a way that was usually comical to Clark when kids saw him in the flesh, but tonight it just made him sad. Had the boy thought that no one was coming for him? Or was he just surprised about who it was who had. He hoped it was the latter. “You hid too well and he couldn’t find you.”

“I got lost. I didn’t want to be scared because I knew he was coming but...” Robin sniffed, pulling the cape taut and trying to cover his bare legs completely. “I don’t know this part of the city very well and the dogs and…”

“It’s okay. Getting lost scares me too.” It was true. As a little kid, probably not much older than Robin, Clark had gotten lost in a corn maze at the fair. It felt like hours that he had wandered the paths, until his dad came in and found him. He had never felt more relieved than he did in that moment. The helplessness of the situation stuck with him, clinging to his memories and liked to slink into his thoughts late at night from time to time.

The small boy hummed in agreement, taking it in stride the idea that Superman could be afraid of something, but if Robin had a close relationship with Batman, with _Bruce_ , he would know that there are always just people behind the masks and people could have fear, mask or not. “I kept waiting for him but he was taking a long time to find me.” Robin whispered, more to himself than to Clark. “Is he mad?”

“Not at you. I think he might be mad at himself. And he didn’t say it, but I think he was a little bit scared too when you didn’t find each other.” Which was an understatement based on what Bruce’s heart rate had been. “Can I take you to him? We can walk or we can fly. It’s up to you.”

“We can… you’d fly with me?” For the first time Clark got a glimpse at a child who wasn’t scared or lost, but rather one presented with a birthday cake on a summer day. The idea of flying had chased away the shadows of the alley, at least in Robin’s eyes.

“If it isn’t too scary. It’s faster than walking and I know my way around Gotham better from the sky.”

“I’m not afraid of flying.” With that confirmation, Clark stood and took a step back and held his hand out to Robin. Robin slid out of his hidey-hole, and reached for Clark’s hand before pulling his back at twice the speed. “Code word?” Robin asked in the most serious tone that Clark had ever hear from someone so young.

Clark chuckled at the idea that a kid dressed in a costume to fight crime was questioning the safety of _going_ with Superman, but not _flying_ with Superman, but he clamped it down quickly based on the unimpressed look starting to appear on Robin’s face; eerily similar to the one he had seen on Bruce’s more than once when Clark has done something that had been deemed silly. “Elephant.” Robin nodded in affirmation, like Clark had successfully worked out at difficult math problem to acceptable success, and took Clark’s hand.

It was so small in Clark’s grasp.

Clark crouch down again to Robin’s height. “We have a couple of seating options of Air Superman for you this evening. You can hold onto my neck and ride on my back. There is the ever popular bridal style carry.” He looked Robin over carefully. Besides the scrapes on his knees, he seemed unharmed, but he was trembling all over, still shaken up from his adventure through the streets. “But the recommended method for a tough night like this is the Super Hug. Tight and secure and the best for when you are feeling a little down in the dumps.” Robin’s eyes widened through the mask and nodded firmly.

Clark had barely extended his arms fully when Robin launched himself at him, arms around his neck, legs trying to wrap his waist but not quite reaching all the way to lock his ankles, and chin resting on his shoulder. Clark gave him a gentle squeeze and rubbed his back in what he hoped was a soothing way, and instantly felt Robin relax into his arms, stress from his night melting away now that he felt save. Long ago, Clark had been nervous with children and babies. Always afraid that he would squeeze too hard or drop them but his Ma had laughed him off.

_“Everyone is worried at first, but everyone knows how to hold a child once they are doing it. They’ll help you figure out what they need.”_

For the first time, Clark really understood what she meant as he hugged Robin securely in place against him.

“Ready to see Batman, Robin?”

“Yes, please.” Clark felt Robin yawn into his shoulder, settling down further into his arms as the adrenaline from the night leaked from his small frame. “Up, up and away, Superman.”

Despite the claim that he wasn’t afraid of flying, Clark had expected Robin to react as they left the ground. Almost everyone did. They either tensed up or yelled or gave some sort of reaction of surprise, but if anything the boy someone relaxed more, cuddled up to Clark as the ground got farther and farther below them.

As they reached their destination, Bruce watched them approach. To an outsider, it just would have been Batman scowling on a rooftop but Clark saw so much more. His heart rate slowing down, muscles relaxing, jaw unclenching and a slow, shuddering sigh with each foot closer that they got. They hit the rooftop and Robin scurried out of Clark’s hold and ran to Batman, leaping into his arms. Clark did his best to try and ignore the whispered apologies on both sides and the tears that were now flowing freely from Robin as well as the ones that he suspected might be forming under the cowl as the two hugged each other, yellow cape mixing with black. He was going to skip the lecture tonight and just let Batman be reunited with his Robin. The child was safe and sound and they just needed to be together, not hear about their mistakes that they both had made. Discussions and questioning of sanity could be had another time; this was a time for comfort.

He took off from the building again, no longer wishing to intrude on this moment, but Bruce caught his eye, message passing between them.

_Thank you._

Clark nodded in return and took off into the darkness that was Gotham. He had other plans, other children of Gotham to check in with on his way back home now that he knew this one was going to be alright.


	3. Dick and Donna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bullet to the head put Dick's life on pause and it moved on without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _fuyunoakegata asked:  
>  2 or 11 for the hug meme, for Dick, please, if either of those inspire you ;)_

Dick’s batons slipped from his fingers and landed on the ground with a clatter.

He had thought that he had seen her on the other side of the field, along with the reinforcements that Hal had brought in, but there hadn’t been time to really process it then, not when the gates to Apokalips had opened up and Darkseid’s warriors had been pouring through, wave after wave.

Now was a different story.

“Donna?” His voice was hoarse and his mouth was dry, words shaking slightly as they came out and he wasn’t sure that she had heard him because he had scarcely made a noise. But as always, she had, pausing mid-step and then turned slowly, hair in her face and practically glowing in post fight adrenaline.

It had been forever and a day since he had seen her like that. Or at all.

When had been the last time that he had seen her? It had been months, on a mission with the new Titans team dealing with the source wall madness. Then he had gone home to Gotham to help Bruce out while he was on jury duty and then…

He hadn’t made it back.

He almost hadn’t made it.

After the fake memories that the Court of Owls had placed in his head had been purged, when he was back to being himself again, it had been simpler to start with picking up the pieces of his Gotham and Bludhaven life first. So many people in one spot and even though it was always chaotic, it was a familiar chaos and fit like an old sweater.

He hadn’t told his family when it happened, that he had his memories back, that he was _Dick_ again. The look of surprise on Bruce’s face when he had strolled up to the Manor front door, let himself in and started explaining why Ewoks were the true heroes of Star Wars out of nowhere was priceless and was going to be impossible to erase from his memories no matter how many bullets he took to the head or who the cults were that brain washed him in the future.

The crushing hug that had followed had been pretty good too.

There was a lot to that he had missed. Where years had disappeared from his life before, now that his original memories were back and he was himself again, Dick was yet again playing catch up on his own life. Months had passed while he was hiding from his friends and family, striking out of his own as Ric, and there had been so much that he had missed or had chosen to ignore.

It was so good to be back, and while it was overwhelming, reuniting with his family was fantastic, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was hiding something from him. Something bad and dark had happened that he didn’t know about and it was obvious they were going to pretend it hadn’t happened until the last possible moment. He could have dug into it himself but part of him was grasping tight onto the blissful peace of ignorance. Whatever it was, it was awful and he was okay being in denial, if only for a little bit longer.

It ended up being Jason who had to break to him and even then it hadn’t been intentional.

They had met up at a pub away from the rest of the family. Jason caught him up about his ownership of the Iceberg Lounge, his accidental acquisition of some super powered youths as part of Luthor’s strange scheme and then showed him about thirty pictures of his new dog over burgers, fries and a pitcher of cheap beer.

“It’s not my dog, Dickface. She just follows me around.”

“Sure,” Dick said with a straight face, as if Jason hadn’t just told him about why definitely-not-Jason’s-dog preferred blue tennis balls over green. “What’s Roy say about all this? He’s always been more of a cat person. He can’t be thrilled about your new four legged sidekick.”

“What are you…” Jason froze part way to raising a fry to his mouth, first confusion and then realization crossing over his face. “No one told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Shit.” Jason’s face dropped and he suddenly became overly interested in his cutlery on the table rather than looking at Dick. “This shouldn’t be coming from me. Bruce or Barbara or anyone else but me. I’m sorry, Dick.”

Jason told him the story the best that he could in starts and stops and awkward pauses. It was obvious that he didn’t know all the details, but what he did know was like someone had ripped Dick’s heart out and shown it to him before shoving it back in his chest just to make sure that it kept beating. Roy was dead. Gnaark and La’Gann and others were gone too and somehow Wally had done it accidentally and had then vanished from Iron Heights while awaiting trial. No one had seen him since.

Dick bolted, leaving Jason with the bill and probably more regret than he deserved.

Dick wasn’t proud of it but he had retreated back to Bludhaven for a week after that night. He locked himself away in his apartment, going through boxes that he had that had been stored after Titan’s Tower had been shut down. One of the boxes had pictures of the five of them, young and less young, smiling and laughing with their arms wrapped around each other. In another he found an assortment of clothes, none of which actually belonged to him; just things that had been tossed in a box randomly in the rush to leave that he had planned on sorting out later. Donna’s favourite navy blue hoodie. A shirt that Roy had worn until it was worn with holes. Garth’s scarf from his first attempt at knitting. A pair of pyjama bottoms with lightning bolts all over them that had to be Wally’s.

The glass in his hand smashed against the wall before Dick even realised he had picked it up. A few more followed.

Dick couldn’t understand how they were just gone and he hadn’t even been able to grieve properly about it and now it almost felt too late somehow.

The broken glassware and screaming didn’t do much.

Putting on all of his friends discarded clothes helped a little, but it wasn’t right either.

He ended up doing what he always did and threw himself back into his work, trying to what he could to help others while ignoring his own pain, when the war had started in DC with the portal swallowing up where the White House used to be, with monster after monster breaching into their planet. Dick was one of the first to show up, the front line of defense. He just got his world back and he wasn’t going to sit back and let some interdimensional aliens take it away from him.

Now as the dust was settling, the air smelled like the remnants of parademons and a city had been destroyed, Dick’s attention was only on one thing, one person among a field of heroes and wreckage.

“Dick?”

Donna dropped her sword and ran at him, stopping short right in front of him, staring at his face like she was worried that he would vanish into smoke before her eyes, dreaming and too impossible to believe that he was really there. Dick reached out and squeezed her hand, jolting her out of her trance.

“Garth and I. We thought we were it.” Her eyes were welling with tears, and she placed her hand on his cheek, thumb tracing the outline of his mask carefully. “You’re you again. We got you back. I didn’t think I was going to get any of you back this time.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I could ha-”

“Shut up and hug me, Boy Wonder.” Despite her words she was the one who made the first move, pulling him into her. Clinging to her, his fingers clutching to her back, wrapped in her hair, and he felt one of her earrings digging into his face. He could feel her hold on him, strong but compassionate in a way that only an Amazon could hug.

A sob escaped him unexpectedly but as soon as it did the floodgates opened and for the first time since Dick had been back, he let go completely, collapsing into Donna’s arms in a mess of tears.

His grief may be late for some, but it never would be too late here. Not with her.


	4. Dick and Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tainted or expired fear toxin, they weren’t sure which yet, was coursing through Bruce’s blood, trapping him within his own mind and body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _anonymous asked:  
>  I love the hug stuff you’re writing! Would you do number 1 of the hug prompts for Dick and Bruce??_

The beeping of the machines made everything a thousand times worse.

It wasn’t the blood seeping through the bandages or the sweat dripping off his brown or the involuntary twitching of his muscles as his body tried to fight the toxin that bothered Dick as he sat by Bruce’s side in the Cave medbay. He would have no problems dealing with that if not for that infernal noise.

Rationally, Dick knew that the beeping was good, that it meant that Bruce was alive, but all it wanted to do was make him dig his own brain out with a fork with every intermittent sound. Part of the annoyance was probably that he knew that in the grand scheme of things Bruce wasn’t all the badly hurt and the monitor was only a precaution, just in case of the strange and unusual.

Tainted or expired fear toxin, they weren’t sure which yet, was coursing through Bruce’s blood, trapping him within his own mind and body, but he was banged up and then non-responsive since he had collapsed in the field the moment that the last thug was tied up. Alfred said that there was enough sedative in his blood work that it should have knocked a rhino on its ass.

Maybe that wasn’t a direct quote, but that is how Dick chose to think about it.

The beep was starting to change, not in a concerning way, more an indication that Bruce was starting to stir. As he always did, Bruce woke up with a start, panicked and confused and distraught. Pale eyes on even paler skin darted around the room, but not successfully landing on anything. He ripped the wires from his skin, silence filling the room.

Silence besides the panting of his anxious, rasping breaths.

Of course he woke up before it was out of his system, probably out of spite and vengeance than anything else.

Bruce never woke up from sedatives well. Dick didn’t know if he had always been like that or if it was a reaction over years or medical treatment or a fear that he didn’t know where he was, but it always shook him to witness.

“I… my son.” Bruce was gasping, unable to take in a full breath and he was attempted to get up despite all of the bandaging and stitches that were holding him together, piece by fragile piece. Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, just enough pressure to keep him prone on the bed, but Bruce didn’t seem to notice that he hadn’t managed to get upright. “My boy. Is he…”

“He’s alright, Bruce.” Dick wondered how many times over the years that he and Bruce had had this conversation. When the line between reality and nightmares blurred and Bruce was foggy, it was never clear about which one of them he was talking about but between the four of them Dick supposed that they had all put Bruce through the wringer enough times that he was probably flashing back to any of them. He didn’t talk about what he saw when he had these dreams, but it was easy to guess.

“No. He… something…” Bruce swallowed hard and finally started to struggle against Dick’s hold, trying to get up again. Dick released him and let him sit because restraining him when he was really determined could cause more harm than good. Sitting let him see more of his surroundings and he’d be able to identify that he was in the Cave. “Something bad.”

“Nothing bad happened to any of us, B.” Dick squeezed his shoulder and locked onto his frenzied gaze. “Just to you. You had a run in with Crane but we’re all fine.”

A light of recognition clicked behind Bruce’s eyes, realization of what was happening and where he was starting to sink in. “Dick?”

“Yeah. See? I’m good.”

“Jason? And Tim and Damian?”

“All good.”

“Cass?”

“She’s fine too. I promise. All of us are safe and sound.”

“I need to see them,” said Bruce through a yawn and made an attempt to swing his feet over the side of the bed but they barely moved an inch. He might be awake but he was still pretty out of it, body not responding properly to what he wanted it to do.

“They are sleeping upstairs, B. They’ll see you in the morning.” Or the next time Bruce woke up anyway; most likely not going to be until late afternoon at best. “Jason’s awake but he’s not here. He’s been texting me all night though. If you really want we can video chat him.” Jason had been the one to bring him in, had been the one that Bruce had jumped in front of and getting a lungful of whatever concoction Scarecrow had unleashed with for his effort.

He had been texting every ten minutes since he left. Bruce wasn’t the only one who worried.

“Hmm.” There was a long pause and Dick was a little concerned that he had lost track of the conversation when he shook his head a fraction. “No. It’s alright. I know I’m… overreacting. I think I was dreaming.” Bruce rubbed his arm, trying to pretend that the fear toxin wasn’t clinging to edges of his mind still. Trying to pretend that Dick hadn’t felt the same way countless of times and would be able to see through his weak ruse. “You are sure they are okay though?”

“Positive.” Dick watched as Bruce’s eyes drooped and his head began to nod, fatigue catching up with him again. “Lay back down. Alfred will have a cow if you try and get up.”

“We already have a cow.”

“And Alfred is very adamant that it isn’t his.” Dick reached out to carefully push Bruce’s shoulders back to the bed, but was surprised that instead of falling backwards, Bruce’s arms wrapped around his waist, gently nudging Dick towards him and buried his face into his shoulder. Dick altered his direction and cradled his arms around Bruce’s in return, holding his hand against the back of Bruce’s neck. He could feel Bruce trembling softly against him and Dick started to massage his neck, trying to chase the last of Bruce’s bad dream away. “You’re safe, too. I’ll look after everything.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know. You should go back to sleep.”

“I’m comfy like this.”

“Then we can stay like this as long as you like.”


	5. Jason & Stephanie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anyone spotted them, they would think that Red Hood and Spoiler were involved in a secret tryst, with they had their arms wrapped around each other in a small, dark nook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _river9noble asked:  
>  How about a JaySteph hug to hide in?_
> 
> I added a & in there and made it gen :)

If anyone spotted them, they would think that Red Hood and Spoiler were involved in a secret tryst, with their arms wrapped around each other in a small, dark nook.

Anyone who spotted them who wasn’t currently trying to kill them that was, and right now those numbers were few and far between. They hadn’t even been working the same case, but they intersected accidentally and maybe, kinda, sorta, instigated a gang war, which from Stephanie’s experience was bad in the worst way.

It had turned even further south when the gangs decided to momentarily put aside their differences and claims over territory to unite against the common enemy.

It should be sweet to see people coming together like that. It was less so when the bullets were flying and they were running for their lives

Now they were out of options, out of ammo, and were pressed together hiding in a space that was far too small, Jason’s arms around her being the only reason that Steph wasn’t falling out of the secret spot that they had somehow managed to evade the gangs in. They weren’t nearby, but they weren’t exactly far either. With any luck, they wouldn’t be found, but who knew based on how the rest of this crappy night was going.

“You’re crushing me.”

“Stop wiggling. You’re fine.” If anything, Red Hood shifted with his words, somehow taking more of her space. Her arms were trapped behind him, both of them wrapped up together to make themselves fit, so her options were limited for retaliation. It’s not like shoving a tank back would do anything.

“I’m going to bite you if you don’t back up.” She couldn’t do much, but if needed that spot between his jacket and his helmet was wide open. She’d have to some how lower her mask, but she she could figure it out.

“Do that and I'll throw you right in their path. Give myself more time to escape before heading to the cave and sadly telling B about your heroic death in the field. You sacrificed yourself for me. It was touching.” He leaned in even closer, like he was taunting her to take her up on her threat. “I may even shed a tear.”

He was just so aggravatingly annoying.

“Why are you like this?” She whined at him. She wasn’t normally a whiner but this night was shit and she just wanted to go home and take a shower and it didn’t look like that was going to happen any time soon and he wasn’t helping. “Yeah, you died, but that doesn’t mean you have to be an ass because of it. We’ve all died, Hood. I died and I’m fantastic.”

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I was always an ass.”

“You weren’t.”

There was a pause and Steph wondered what his face was doing under the helmet. He was so hard to gauge when he was suited up, but when the helmet was off his face was an open book. “You don’t know that and you can’t rely on Bruce or Alfred’s rose coloured nostalgia glasses opinions and don’t even get me started on Dick because he barely knew me.”

Irritation. The special kind that he had purely for when people tried to bring up how he used to be compared to how he was now. It was like when you saw a great aunt who still treated you like you were five, only dialled up to eleven or twelve.

“But I knew Robin.” Stephanie stared at the brick behind Jason’s shoulder, trying to avoid the awkward eye to helmet contact. “You saved me once when I was a kid. Nothing big or flashy. I was out at night by myself when I probably shouldn’t have been and I almost got hit by a car. You appeared from out of nowhere pulled me back.” She remembered going to school the next day and telling everyone the she had seen him. “It was small and simple and not fighting the forces of evil. Just a nice kid doing a good thing.” Now she did look at him, seeing the tilt to his head. “And before you say anything, yes, I’m sure it was you and not Dick or Tim. It was Gotham Robin.”

Jason stared at her, or at least she thought he did but through the helmet it was hard to tell. “Gotham Robin?”

“That’s what we called you. You were _our_ Robin. All of us kids from the wrong side of the tracks, we didn’t know who you were, but we did know that you were one of us with your east end slang, sounding like you were straight out of the PS 24 playground.”

The sound was distorted, but it was definitely a snort. “32. When I went to school as a kid I was at PS 32. Everyone at 24 was a dingus.”

“They were, weren’t they?” she chuckled. “Anyway, that’s how I know you weren’t always an ass. An ass would have let me become a pancake. Wouldn’t have even noticed that I was in trouble.”

A minute passed in silence before Jason coughed. “It doesn’t really matter because I’m an ass now regardless and you just have to deal with it. I saved you from the Vipers. You should be thanking me.”

“Excuse you. I saved you from the Black Street North crew.”

“Please. No one needs saving from BSN. Those guys are small fish.”

Stephanie was going to argue back, that her case was just as important as his case and her gang was equally as dangerous when the gunfire started up again at the far end of the alley. “I guess it didn’t work out between them.”

“I really thought those crazy kids were going to make it work. They had such a solid foundation of trust.” Jason edged out of the crevice, blocking Steph from any potential stragglers still hunting for them, before he pulled her back onto the street with him. They were safe, but they still had to do something about the fight before it got even farther out of hand. She was about to ask what their next move should be when Jason interrupted. “Let’s hit the roof and call in for some reinforcements. Red Robin and Black Bat will be upset if we don’t ask them to join our party.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Stephanie winked at him before firing her grapple at into the sky. “Gotham Robin.”


	6. Bruce & Alfred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being alone for months, a father and son finally reconnect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _anonymous asked:  
>  Hello! Can i get number 2 with Bruce & Alfred?_

The postcard had been short; to the point while being very non-descript, and infuriating.

_A –_

_Meet me in Sheffield._

_B._

Alfred stared at the postmark, looking like it had been sent from Austria two weeks ago and flipped the card over. It was a picturesque but not a very detailed image of a mountainscape overlooking a lake in autumn. Something that looked like it was very easily purchased in a pharmacy or a tourist shop or even at an airport last minute when someone forgot to send someone a postcard.

The picture on the front was so generic it may not have even been of Austria.

This wasn’t the first postcard that Alfred had received since Master Bruce had disappeared into the night eight months ago. Random notes from random places that said even less arrived every few weeks and while they were probably sent as some sort of attempt to make him feel better, all they did was concern him further.

Alfred dropped the most recent one in the box with the others, their messages staring up at him, that frustrated him equally if not more than this one.

Thailand – _Going strong._

Pakistan – _Not dead._

Sweden – _I love cheese._

The most recent one before this one had been from Japan – _Happy Birthday A!_ – which would have been thoughtful if Alfred’s birthday hadn’t been another four months away and it just showed that either Master Bruce had no concept as to what month it currently was, or that he had never known when Alfred’s birthday was in the start.

And now after all this time he wants Alfred to come and meet him in Sheffield of all places? Alfred had never even been to Sheffield other than to travel through it and to the best of his knowledge neither had Bruce. It wasn’t as if the city had any sort of emotional attachment to either of them.

It flashed through his head for a second to ignore the message, to go back to his plans for the night of meeting some friends for dinner. A petty moment where he thought about leaving Bruce alone and waiting in Sheffield just as he had been abandoned here in an old manor by himself without a word.

It took about thirty seconds before he started looking into flights.

Alfred got a plane to Manchester and from there took the train across to Sheffield. Sitting in the first class car he watched the hillside go by wondering if Bruce would even be there or if there would be some sort of missed connection. The card hadn’t had a date or a time on it and Alfred didn’t know if he was early or late or if this was something that Bruce had thought of on a whim and then had changed his mind.

Thomas Wayne was sitting on an otherwise empty bench in the train station and Alfred almost tripped over his own feet at the sight before realizing that it wasn’t Thomas at all. Instead it was Bruce waiting patiently for him. Obviously inches taller than he had been when he had left even though he was sitting, and far wider and stronger than he or Thomas had ever been. His hair was longer than it had been in years and there was a light in his eyes that Alfred didn’t quite recognize, but it was Bruce, at least one late growth spurt larger.

Bruce stood at the sight of Alfred and that is when Alfred recognized the boy that he knew. The one that stumbled awkwardly to his feet and looked perfectly abashed when Alfred had caught his hands in the cookie jar five minutes before dinner was set to start. It was the same look he wore now, months after disappearing from Alfred’s life.

Alfred stopped in front of this large, tall, wide boy-man and set his suitcase on the ground, and watched as Bruce shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, possibly uncertain as to how this meeting was going to go.

There was only one thing Alfred could say.

“Hello, my boy.” 

The boy in question visibly melted at the words and before Alfred knew that it was happening, strong arms were pulling him into a tight embrace that Alfred couldn’t help but return with vigor. Bruce was taller and bigger and his body was much more firm than the last time that they had hugged, but it was familiar and something that Alfred had stayed up many nights thinking about whether if he would ever have another chance of doing again.

“Hi Al.” The voice was mumbled and deep, new but familiar, and Alfred gave him a tighter squeeze. The younger man’s arms stayed firm, and a head dropped to Alfred’s shoulder, showing no indication that the hug was going to end any time soon.


	7. Roy and Garth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Roy hadn’t been as fully accepted back as they had told him he had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _mizmahlia asked:  
>  I just read your drabble with Dick and Donna, and I'm nearly in tears. (As always, your writing is absolutely WONDERFUL!) If I may, can I request #12 with Roy and any of the Titans? Pretty please, and thank you!_

Roy was doing his best not to fidget in his chair but it was becoming harder with each second that ticked by.

It had been a long time since he had done something like this and he had been nervous for the past three days about it. It had been a few unsteady weeks but he was back working with the Titans, getting his old life back on track, and this was the first time that he had tried do something with one of them that hadn’t been mission or training related. He thought that he had started small and simple, with something that was unimportant and had no real investment in but the longer that he waited the more he realized that he subconsciously put more weight on it than he realized.

So now he was sitting alone at a hockey game that he only had minimal interest in being at one his own. Being alone didn’t really matter, the arena was only half full which for Star City on a Wednesday was actually pretty good, but it was empty seat to his right that throbbed at the back of his mind.

Stars vs. Monarchs. It was always their thing before, something that the two of them had bonded over that the others just didn’t care about the same way. Maybe it wasn’t anymore. Maybe Roy hadn’t been as fully accepted back as they had told him he had been. He had known that it had been a risk, but if they were going to trust him with a bow in his hands, surely they would…

_Stop_.

Hands shoved in his pockets, his thumb circled the metal chip on his keys. He had thought that it was stupid when they gave him his first one but now here he was on his fourth upgrade and he had grown rather attached to it being close.

He wasn’t tempted or anything, not for something small like being stood up, but he was glad it was there for him to touch to keep his thoughts from spiraling to a worst place.

“Hey, Harper. Sorry, I’m late.” Garth plopped down hard into the plastic seat beside him, shrugging off his coat to show his well worn Monarchs jersey. He passed Roy a basket of concession nachos, still hot and and covered with gooey fake cheese and a bottle of water. “I always forget about how long it takes to get from the harbour to downtown. Land dwellers sure do love their traffic.”

“Not as a rule.”

“Then why is there always so much…” Garth’s voice trailed off as he looked down at the ice. “Shoot, I missed face off? Did Raleigh give it up immediately again? He really should be on the third line.”

Garth plunged into his usual rambling commentary, paying no attention to Roy’s lack of involvement in their conversation. Roy smiled to himself, thinking of all the times that they had done this together - watch the game from either the stands or in front of the TV. It was familiar and he loved it.

Eventually Garth turned to rant about the Monarchs goalie and how they weren’t going to make the playoffs this year if they didn’t switch him out for the rookie backup more often. “He’s got more natural skill than McCabe, Roy. And his training videos online? That kid is a beast. He just needs more ice time to get the big league experience, but he’s going to be the absolute best. The Monarchs just have to give him a chance.”

“Sort of sounds like us.” At least it did in the early days when the five of them were all full of that go get-em spirit, ready to take on the world and show that they weren’t just replicas of the mentors. They were better and just needed a chance to step into the spotlight.

“Right? And look how we turned out!”

“Yeah. Just look at us.” muttered Roy as he stayed focus on the ice. He had a feeling that Garth was staring at him, but he was doing his best to ignore any follow up questions about it. Garth took the hint and started yelling at the players on the ice, as if they could hear him from their second level seats. Monarchs scored the first goal of the game with just over three minutes left in the period, Garth standing up to cheer in his white jersey amongst the green of the home crowd, nearby fans boo-ing in a good natured way at the out of towner in their section. Garth just cheered louder and Roy pretended that they didn’t know each other.

The buzzer rang for the end of the first period and people around them started to get up to move around for intermission. Roy sank down into the seat and put his feet up on the seat in front of him, showing that he had no intention on standing. Garth sipped some of his water, and watched the recaps and interviews on the jumbotron.

It was just like old times even if it wasn’t.

“Thanks for showing up.” Garth raised an eyebrow in question and Roy simply shrugged in return, trying to play it off like it was nothing. “When you were late, I thought you bailed on me.” His voice was light and carefree, trying to show that it wasn’t a big deal and that Roy hadn’t been internally overthinking it.

Or at least he thought so.

Garth wasn’t really a hugger – it wasn’t a common gesture of affection in Atlantis – but it was something that he had adopted the more that he hung out with them as kids and there must have been something on Roy’s face that gave away how much it had really bothered him. He twisted at the waist and put his arms around Roy’s shoulder and somehow managed to tug him close despite the impossibly small chairs they were smushed like sardines into. Roy awkwardly returned the hug, and a tension that he hadn’t noticed that he was carrying melted through his spine and he curled his fingers into Garth’s jersey, feeling the stitching of the numbers on his back.

Had anyone hugged Roy since he had been back? He’s sure that it had probably happened, but right now in that moment, he couldn’t remember and he found himself struggling to hold back a bubbling choke in his throat and there was a traitorous stinging behind his eyes.

“Sorry.” Garth finally said, voice barely audible. “I would have texted.”

“But you don’t have a phone.” Roy responded with a chuckle. He broke away and rubbed his face, not mentioning the tears but not bothering to hide them either. “We need to get you a phone, man.”

“It’s hopeless. Touchscreens don’t work underwater and even if I have one with buttons it breaks the waterproof seal and they fry the second I try to type.” Garth frowned to himself and inhaled deeply, exhaling long and slow. “I’ll figure something out. You know if you need me, I’ll come, right?”

Roy nodded and looked towards the ice, watching the Zamboni driver scrape and flood the ice, taking something torn up and making to whole and smooth again. There was something relaxing about watching the process of it being resurfaced and buffing out all the nicks and scratches to make it strong for the teams to play again.

Maybe there was hope for Roy yet.


	8. Dick and Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason disappears after a nightmare and Dick knows just where to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _s-p-a-c-e-g-a-l asked:  
>  1 for the hug meme, w jason and dick? (thank you :) ) _

Dick wasn’t sure why he even bothered to try and sneak in.

He had just stopped by the cave for a minute, only to pick up some spare parts that he had left in his locker, a quick in and out and if he had any luck he would be gone before Bruce even knew that he had been there.

Luck unfortunately was turning a blind eye in his direction because Bruce was lurking behind Dick’s locker as he slammed it shut, and Dick made a rather undignified yelp at the surprise appearance.

“Crap, B.” Dick muttered as he packed the gadgets into his duffel bag. “Warn a guy next time.”

“If you were more aware of your surroundings, you wouldn’t need a warning.”

Dick clenched his jaw, molars grinding together. He wasn’t in the mood to have yet another argument with Bruce about how he was too young and inexperienced to be off on his own, but with just one sentence from the man Dick was finding himself having to hold himself back from launching into a full debate.

Yeah, he was seventeen and he knew he was young, but that also meant he wasn’t eleven, and Bruce didn’t seem to remember that there was a difference between those. 

Either way, he was tired from his last mission with the Titans and was aching to get back to his bed in the Tower so he just turned and walked towards the main room. He was almost to his bike when Bruce’s voice called after him. “Wait.” Dick froze at the word and waited without turning. “Since you are here, I could use your help with something.”

“What? Kitten stuck up a tree? Sure you trust me with something so dangerous?” Okay, maybe he was cranky enough to pick a fight even when Bruce was extending a tiny olive branch.

“Jason’s missing.”

Those words did make Dick turn around. “He’s missing and you are here?” That didn’t make sense at all. If he was missing as Robin, Batman would be out of the streets searching, or at the very least, in front of the computer hunting down other leads when Dick had arrived. If he was missing as the son of Bruce Wayne, Bruce would be with the police, waiting for a ransom call, being the perfect demonstration of a scared parent. Sneaking up on Dick and surprising him in the dark was an odd life choice in this moment for either persona.

“Missing may be the wrong word,” Bruce amended. “I know that he’s in the house. I just can’t find him.”

“Serves you right for having the house the size of nine regular sized houses.” Dick said was a bite of unnecessary aggression that he couldn’t seem to drop. “Going to have to rethink the moniker of the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ if you can’t even find one of your kids in your own house. Oh, what with R’as think when I tell him?”

“Stop.” The command was firm, and Dick reflexively found himself sinking a little lower, ready and waiting for Batman’s next field command. “He…” Bruce stopped and looked uncertain, like he didn’t know if he should be talking to Dick about this or not. “He has nightmares. Bad ones. Wakes up several times a night.” Bruce cast his eyes up at the roof of the cave, trying to see through the rock and wood and metal between the floors to possibly discern where Jason could be. “He disappears into the house after the worse ones. Alfred knows where he goes, but he’s away.” Bruce looked back down, examining Dick’s face for some sort of microexpression that only he could discern. “I checked all of the regular spots,” Dick heard the unspoken ‘ _your’_ in there, imagining Bruce looking for Jason in all of Dick’s well loved nooks and crannies of the manor, “but I don’t know where else to check. I just want to make sure he’s alright.”

Something in Dick’s chest tightened, a battle warring between jealously and pride to hear Bruce talking openly about his concern for Jason. There was a lightness there, under the concern and it reminded Dick of better times when he was younger and before things between them got so complicated.

Jason was good for Bruce and seeing the evidence of that poked the still bleeding wound a little bit.

Dick put his bag down beside his bike and thought about the situation. “Have you checked outside? I was texting with Jay last week about that fort that I built by the north fence. Said it was a good place to stargaze when you couldn’t sleep. Maybe he took me up on that?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but said nothing before turning on his heel and headed towards the tunnel that opened up in the forest on the manor grounds.

There was absolutely no way that Jason was outside. Partly because it was freezing, but mostly because that conversation had never happened. Dick had a hunch where Jason was though, just with the little information that Bruce had given him. It was wild, and he trusted Bruce when he said that he had looked everywhere, but there was one obvious place that Bruce would have overlooked without even noticing that he had done so.

When Dick woke up from a nightmare he would have either hid under his bed or ran to Bruce’s room to escape from the particularly frightening things, but from what little he knew about Jason, neither of those were the case because he didn’t think Jason would like being potentially cornered in small spaces or want to bother Bruce with something as small as a nightmare. Dick ticked off the list that he had been building in his head. These nightmares were a regular thing. Alfred knew where Jason went while Bruce didn’t, which meant that they had a sort of routine, just the two of them, and Dick was willing to bet that Jason was following it to the letter even if the other party wasn’t there.

Dick climbed the stairs into the manor, and because he knew that Bruce would have checked the kitchen or sitting rooms or library, padded down the hall to the west wing stopping outside an oak door, staring down at the handle. There was a hesitant sense of foreboding looming over him, stopping him from reaching down and opening it. This was the one firm rule in the house that Dick had never broken before and had never imagined that he would.

Alfred’s apartment in the manor was strictly off limits if you weren’t invited, unless it was an emergency. Alfred was more than happy to have them into his home and Dick couldn’t recall a time where he hadn’t been invited in if he asked, but that was the rule. Bruce followed it, Dick followed it, and as far as Dick knew, Jason followed it.

This wasn’t an emergency, Dick knew that with his heart, but he also knew that when you woke up from a nightmare, sometime your measuring stick on what was an emergency was sometimes skewed. 

Or maybe Alfred had told Jason that moments like these were an acceptable emergency.

And Bruce wouldn’t have thought to check there, not if there was a standing invite for this purpose that he wasn’t aware of.

Dick took a deep breath and opened the door, partly expecting an immediate response chastising him for not knocking, but nothing came. Just a dim beam of light and the sounds of someone gasping heavily.

Jason was curled up in a ball on the right side of Alfred’s couch, cold cup of tea on the table beside him and a blanket pulled tight around his shoulders. There were tear tracks down his cheeks and he was hiccupping with the effort of unsuccessfully trying to breath normally, trying to get himself back under control, coming down from whatever it was that haunted him.

Dick looked down at the familiar couch, thinking of all the times that he had sat there, on the left side, with Alfred in the middle and a warmth filled his head. Everywhere else in the manor it felt like Jason was being written over top of him, replacing any presence that he had ever had and erasing him from his own home, but not here. Dick’s spot was still there, ready and waiting for him as it always had at Alfred’s. He wondered if Alfred had done that on purpose, knowingly giving them separate spots in his home.

He sat down in his spot with the empty space waiting between them.

“Want to talk about it?”

Jason wiped his nose with the edge of the blanket and rolled his head to look at Dick for the first time, face blotchy and red rimmed eyes. “No.”

Whatever had woken him up hadn’t left him after he had escaped his room or been chased away with the lights turned on and it was obviously, terrifyingly true. Made up dreams of monsters and imaginary villains didn’t have this kind of effect on someone. This was the kind of haunted terror that only came out of the depths of someone’s own personal history, dredged up just to remind you that it’ll never leave, not completely.

Whatever this kid had been through hadn’t been pleasant if this was happening every night.

A bit of the jealousy that he felt about Jason melted away. He knew his anger was directed in the wrong place, but now he could see it. He wasn’t trying to take his spot in Dick’s family; he was just starting to be a part of it.

He was just a kid, and Dick had been, well, kind of a jackass to him.

Maybe he could be less of a jackass and more of a brother. Or at least a friend. At least for right now.

“If I try and hug you, are you going to bite me?”

“What?”

“Thought maybe you’d like a hug, but I don’t know if you’re a biter and I don’t want to lose a finger.”

“I’m fourteen, not three.” There was another sniff and then the smallest of small shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Maybe I can hug you or maybe you’ll bite me?”

“Maybe.”

Dick snorted quietly before edging into the middle of the couch, into Alfred’s spot, and carefully tipped that Jason-blanket-burrito over and into his arms, warm body falling against his chest. Jason didn’t hug him back, but Dick felt his small frame soften in his hold and heard the way his breathing shuddered as he relaxed.

Dick rubbed his hands up and down Jason’s back slowly, trying to remember what it felt like when Bruce or his parents had soothed him after a bad dream. It always made him feel better. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I promise you that you are safe. Everything is okay. Everything is going to be okay now that you’re here.” The small head nodded and snuggled into Dick’s hold deeper. “Bruce, Alfred… me. We’re all here for you.” Dick murmured, uncertain about whether Jason was still awake or not, possibly having worn himself out. “I’ll protect you, whenever you need. I’ll be better.”


	9. Dick and Rachel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick wasn't sure of the moment that he had turned into a dad, but the minivan didn't help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _anonymous asked:  
>  Hi, have you watched DC Universe Titans tv show? If you have, can you please do 11 + 12 from the hug prompts for Dick and Rachel? I'm in need for some father daughter bonding time ❤_

Dick wasn’t sure of the exact moment that he had somehow turned into a dad, but it probably was around the time that he and Rachel were hiding out in the hotel and talking about what to put on their pizza.

Now he here was, becoming the ultimate cliché and pulling the minivan over to the side of the road because the two teenagers in the back were out of control and he just couldn’t focus on driving. He was ready to turn this car around and go home, but that was part of the problem of being on the run and not exactly having a home.

It was a little less of a made for TV movie though because one of said teenagers had morphed into a green tiger and the others eyes had turned black and curls of black smoke were surrounding her and filling the rest of the car. Rachel and Gar normally got along so well and Dick had no idea what had happened but now what they had been pretending was a simple road trip had turned into a potential death match in the backseat over something as silly as what kind of Pringles were the best.

It was the definition of escalating quickly and he was suddenly feeling an unwanted wave of empathy for Bruce and Diana from having to deal with he and Donna and the others over the years and that was something that he didn’t have time to consider right now.

“Kori, get Gar out and get him to calm down. I’ll take Rachel.”

Kori’s eyes were huge and disbelieving as she got out of the car. “How on earth do you suggest I do that?”

“No idea. We just need him to be a little less tiger.” Dick waves his hand in front of him, trying to push the smoke out of his eyes to no avail. “At the very least, if we get pulled over I don’t exactly have a permit for him.”

“Might want to look into that if this adventure is going to keep going.” Kori pulled the side passenger door open and pulled Gar out of the car, yelp of surprise coming from the large cat at being scruffed, grabbed a blanket and followed him into the tall grass of the field they were parked beside.

Dick undid his seatbelt, climbed into the back of the van and wrapped his arms around the still screaming girl, eyes black and shadows spreading across her skin, smoke and darkness swirling through the space. He still didn’t really know what he was doing, but this had worked a few times now so it was really his only option. Embracing Rachel hard and tight seemed to ground her when this happened, when the emotions and rawness of her powers took over and were wildly out of control, bleeding into the world. He babbled nonsense at her, telling her that she was going to be okay, that everything was alright, whispering all the things that pop culture and the earliest memories of his mother told him would help to soothe someone. The things that worked in the moment even when both people knew that they may not be really true.

It worked. The black suffocating vapor started to disappear, not into thin air but back into Rachel herself. Her skin tone went back to its natural hue and the unearthly screams disappeared into the simple and devastating, but thankfully recognizable, sounds of a crying and scared child in its wake.

He was trying to not think about the fact that every time this happened it took longer for it to recede, pushing back the worries about the day when this tricked stopped working for another time.

Probably when he was lying in a dingy hotel bed and staring up at the ceiling and not sleeping because he didn’t have the luxury to do that anymore.

Rachel finally was back in control and fiercely wrapped her arms around him tight. He could feel her shaking and she pressed her chin into his shoulder. “I started it. I don’t know what happened but all of a sudden it…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Gar’s going to hate me.”

“He won’t. Gar doesn’t hate anyone.”

“Whatever this is inside me, it’s getting stronger.” Rachel’s voice was flat. They hadn’t really talked about it that way, but everyone knew that it was true. It wasn’t about restraining it, because that didn’t seem like a plausible thing. They just had to figure out how to understand it before they could try and hopefully harness it. The other options weren’t options and it didn’t do anything to dwell on it.

They had to figure out how to control the controllable, whatever that was.

“We’ll figure it out. We can handle it.”

Rachel pulled back and away from Dick and settled back into her seat, eyes watching Kori and the now human Gar talking in the roadside ditch. Despite what had just happened, and that he was half naked and wrapped in a blanket in the middle of what might be Ohio but could just as easily be Kentucky at this point, he was smiling and laughing about something, trying to get Kori to break the deadpan face that she was locked in with. “I just wish I was normal.”

“Normal is overrated. None of us are normal.”

Rachel watched Dick carefully, how he sat and moved and held himself. He wondered if everything looked different through her eyes with whatever was inside her, and if so, if they always had and she just didn’t know any different. “You are. Or you could be.”

Dick shook her head and gave her a small smile that he hoped was encouraging and not a grimace. He used to smile a lot but over the years it had become a little bit harder. Those walls were starting to crack and it felt easier again. “Nah. That ship sailed a long time ago. Even if I burn the cape and leave all this? I still grew up in the circus and my best friend is an Amazon so it was never really in the cards. Normal is boring and all of us? We are anything but.”

Rachel looked away and again and nodded with a soft smile of her own. “Well, I don’t want to be boring.” She snapped her seatbelt into place, her own way of trying to show that she was done talking about it for now and would rather just keep going. “I’m alright. I promise. We can get going again.”

“Let me know if you’re not, okay? I’ll pull over and we can take a break.” Dick wrapped his arms around her again, this time it was quick and light, completely different from the restraining hold of before.

“I’m fine.”

“I meant for the car. I don’t know what that black stuff does to the transmission.”

There was a sharp pain as Rachel punched him in the shoulder. “You really are such a dick.”

“Language.” His eyes widened as soon as he said it.

It was official. He really was a dad now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all of them! Hope you liked all the hugs :)


End file.
